


Dancing With Darkness

by GreenBryn



Series: Gotta Get It 'Verse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Bryn's Old WIPs, M/M, Stripper!Xander, strip clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-10-08
Updated: 2006-10-08
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBryn/pseuds/GreenBryn
Summary: This is a prequel to my fic "Want Take Have", in the GGI universe. Faith mentioned that Xander was channeling his ex, and of course I thought of JT. You get a peek at one of Faith's ex-es in this too, as well as Xander's side job. Things aren't pretty here. Sure, they start out good, but things have a way of sliding downhill quickly..





	

Originally posted at [Spikess](http://brynspikess.livejournal.com/178614.html).

 **Title** : WTH prequel: Dancing With Darkness (1/?)  
**Author** : Dea Brynhild Ensomhet Spikess  
**Timeline** : AU, plus bits of canon details to spice things up. This fic takes place roughly four years before WTH. Which means it also happens before GGI, but the events in this will relate to things that happen in WTH, thus I am listing this as a WTH prequel.  
**Rating** : NC-17  
**Pairing** : Xander/surprise, Faith/surprise.  
**Warnings** : Bloodplay, violence, abuse, torture, and character death will eventually be in this story. It's a lovely day in the neighborhood...  
**Written for** : the [Dark Xander Ficathon](http://liz-marcs.livejournal.com/214449.html). Huge thanks to Rain-chan for helping me finish a few bits in this chapter.  
**Feedback** : is nifty. Like O'Charley's potato soup. Warm and nummy.  
**Author's note** : This is a prequel to my fic [Want Take Have](http://www.deabryn.com/WTH.html), in the GGI universe. Faith mentioned that Xander was channeling his ex, and of course I thought of JT. You get a peek at one of Faith's ex-es in this too, as well as Xander's side job. Things aren't pretty here. Sure, they start out good, but things have a way of sliding downhill quickly...

~*~

**Chapter One: _A snake of a guy gave me an evil wink..._**

" _'Studly Sam does it Standing'_? _'Danny's Dancepole'_? _'Dirtier Dancing'_? What the _hell_?" Xander stared at the stack of movies. It was a good thing he was sitting down or else he would have fallen over in shock.

"What?" Faith said, her innocent look at odds with the tall pile of porn tapes she'd dropped on his coffee table. "What with your interview at that strip club next week, I thought you'd want to try to pick up a few moves. It's not like you've been classically trained for this kind of career." She plopped down on the couch beside him, and he put his arm around her shoulders.

"Thanks, Faith. I don't know whether to be touched that you care or horrified that you know which tapes have guys stripping on them." She elbowed him in the side, making him flinch and laugh.

"Hey! It's not like I actually _watched_ them, I just looked for movies with male strippers in the summary." Faith grinned when Xander snorted in disbelief. "So maybe I did watch one or two."

"Or all of them." Xander returned the grin.

"Or all." Faith replied, and leaned close to whisper, " _'Sexy Steve on Stage'_ is the best."

"I know." Xander whispered back with a wink.

A relaxed silence extended for a moment, the friends happy with life for the time being. Faith turned her head towards Xander. "I still can't believe it. You, Xander Harris, working for a strip club."

"Hey, I haven't gotten the job yet."

"You'll get it." Faith said with all the conviction of Cassandra, and with about the same chance of being believed.

"Maybe." Xander leaned forward and began shuffling though the tapes, pausing to show one tape to Faith. The cover depicted a well-muscled man wearing something so tiny that a thong would look downright prudish next to it. "But something tells me that unless _'Richard's Magic Rod'_ can grant a miracle, there's no way I'll get the job."

"You know I would've gotten you a job pushing caffeine if you wanted me to."

"I know." Xander assured her. "And I'll probably take you up on that when this falls through. But I could make over a year's tuition and rent in four months stripping, and then I could spend the rest of the year studying and working on the stage. It'd be perfect if it works."

"You'll get the job." Faith assured him. "You're too cute for them to resist you. Just make sure you wear those jeans with the rip in the knee."

"Those jeans are too small! And I'm going to the club to interview for a job, not for fun. I'm going to dress up for it."

"You're going to the club to interview to be a _stripper_ , Xander. You want to show off your best assets, and I do mean _ass_ ets, and nothing does that better than those old jeans."

There was a pause as Xander considered his arguing over Faith's fashion tips, and decided it was a losing battle. "Well, one thing's for certain."

"What?" Faith said, curious.

Xander looked her in the eyes, and said seriously, "With a stripping background, I'll never grow up to be the President of the United States."

Faith burst out laughing. "And as a best friend of a stripper, I'd never get elected either. Pity. There go my dreams of being the first female President."

"It's horrible having your dreams crushed, isn't it?" Xander chuckled.

"Oh yeah," Faith giggled.

~*~

The club wasn't in the safest part of town, or the cleanest. The sun was already starting to set, and the shadows were growing. There were several dark alleys on the way to The Fabulous Ladies' Night Club, and Xander held his breath and his small bottle of pepper spray as he crossed the mouth of each one. Arriving at the door of the club unaccosted, Xander knocked. Other than the huge neon sign above the door, there were no other indications that this was one of the hotter clubs in the city. Certainly the black door, black painted brick walls and painted-over windows weren't the most inviting, but with the club's reputation, they didn't have to advertise or be inviting. His knock was answered promptly by a guy who looked like the thick-necked football jocks Xander remembered from high school. Thank God he wasn't actually a guy _from_ Xander's high school, or else Xander would have to die of embarrassment immediately.

"You Xander?" The guy asked, and Xander nodded. "I'm Luke. Come in."

The club was not nearly as dark inside as Xander had imagined. The hallway Luke led him through opened into a large room with a stage against the wall across from him, and a bar against the wall to his right. Small booths lined the other two walls, and tables with their chairs placed upside down on top of them were scattered around the main floor. Music blared over the speakers, and up on stage lights shone down on a dark haired man, dancing in a black wife beater and grey sweatpants.

 _~You wanna get psycho with me?~_ Practicing his routine, the man hooked one leg around a pole that was on the right side of the stage, and swung his body around the pole, then, grabbing the pole with one hand, he unhooked his leg to send his body back into a standing position for half a second before dissolving into a series of jerky movements timed to punctuate the beats of the song. The man's eyes caught Xander's for a moment, and he winked as he did a particularly suggestive hip-roll. _~Red hot meaning of life...~_ Xander blushed hard.

"That's Jack O'Toole." Luke said, noticing Xander's gaze and taking a moment to admire the dance. "I swear, that guy was a slinky in a past life." He shook his head for a moment, and then gestured towards a door right of the bar, hidden in shadows. "That's the boss's office. You can go on in; he's expecting you."

Xander managed to tear his eyes away from the stage and nod his thanks to Luke, and slipped inside the office, shutting the door behind him. The room wasn't very well lit, but he could see that the chair behind the large wooden desk was empty, and he wondered if maybe the boss was going to join him in a few minutes. Taking the opportunity to explore, Xander noticed that most of the wall space was covered with bookshelves filled with poetry collections, mystery novels and a frightening amount of European history books-- way more than was in the college library.

"Not your typical club office?" a voice from the shadows asked. There were way too many shadows around this place. In the split-second before Xander realized he wasn't alone in the room, he wondered if there was a zoning committee or something that he could petition to get rid of some of the shadows. Maybe put in some clouds or rainbows or maybe a goldfish to lighten up the place a little.

The split-second was over and Xander yelped, whirling around to face the man who stepped forward. "Didn't mean to scare you." he said, but Xander had a feeling that was exactly what he'd meant to do, and that he was hiding guffaws of glee behind that mocking smirk. "I'm Angel. I run this place."

You know how people talk about love at first sight? How you look across a crowded room (or a dim office), see someone for the first time, and instantly feel a bond that was meant to be? Well, this was the exact opposite. The bond that Xander felt was one of mutual loathing, and he had a moment of foresight as he realized that no matter what ever happened in the future, even if Angel gave him a kidney or saved him from a burning building, he would never like this guy or consider him a friend.

They shook hands, and the sheer irony of the situation threw Xander for a moment. Here he was, in the Fabulous Ladies Night Club, a club where there was no female employees and hardly any female patrons (or so he'd heard), and his boss was a big dark stern man named Angel. Angel was a word usually found sprawled across the breasts of baby pink t-shirts worn by blonde, giggling girls, whereas this guy reminded Xander more of a creature on the lower end of the celestial hierarchy. "Nice to meet you." he lied politely, resisting the urge to snatch his hand back. They sat on opposite sides of the desk and Angel pulled out the file with Xander's resume in it.

"You have no previous club experience, is that correct?" Angel asked, scanning the resume.

"Yeah." Xander admitted, "But I've worked for a theater company for years, so I'm kinda familiar with a stage atmosphere."

Angel nodded. "And you don't have any restaurant experience either?"

"I make doughnut runs for my friends." Xander offered. Maybe he should have prepared for this interview a little more... who knew restaurant experience was wanted in a stripper?

Angel stared at him for a moment. "Okay." He looked back down at the resume. "Moving on. What makes you think that you are the right person for this position?

Xander shifted in his chair nervously. "Well, I learn fast and work hard, and I have no dignity whatsoever."

"Dignity?" Angel repeated.

"Yup!" Xander smiled widely, starting to get into the swing of things. "I'm used to working at night, and I think with a little bit of practice I could become one of your main attractions."

A brief frown marred Angel's forehead. "Wait. What job do you think you're applying for?"

"Um... stripping?" Xander said, doubt starting to creep into his mind. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

Angel chuckled, and it sounded so strange coming out of his stern mouth that the hairs on the back of Xander's neck stood up. The smirk hadn't been nearly so condescending. Or scary. But a job was a job, and this was his best option right now. "We already have enough strippers right now. But I could use a dish washer."

Xander brightened at the idea. To be honest, he hadn't been entirely at ease with the whole taking-his-clothes-off thing, and he could wash dishes, no problem. Then he remembered the reason why he'd considered stripping in the first place. "How much does it pay?"

Angel wrote down a figure, and Xander's eyes widened. It wasn't close to what the strippers' salaries had to be, but it was a hell of a lot more than what Faith was making pushing caffeine. "We tend to have a high turnover of dish washers," Angel said, by way of explaining why he was offering Xander a paycheck that would make most of the working class of the city jealous. "They keep falling into bed with the strippers, and then when the relationship sours they quit."

"This is just for dish washing, right?" Xander was a little skeptical.

"Well, you'll also have to wipe down the tables at night, clean the glasses, and learn to cook some appetizers, but that's pretty much it." Angel assured him. "You won't be expected to participate in any of the more sexual going-ons here."

"Okay." Xander thought about it for a moment. "I'll take the position."

"Great." Angel stood and shook his hand again. "You're hired." They stepped out of the office and Angel said, "There's a gated parking lot in the back. We'll get you a password tomorrow so you don't have to leave your car on the street."

"I didn't drive." Xander said absently, looking around again. The club wouldn't officially open for another few hours, but it was far from deserted. People were scurrying around; one woman with dark green hair was taking the chairs down from the tables and wiping them down, while a guy with long black hair that fell in a braid down to his waist tested the lights. "I thought there weren't any female employees here." Xander said before he could stop himself.

"I see you've been listening to the rumors." Angel replied, "We have a few women working here, but none of them dance. The name is pretty misleading, but the previous owner put a clause in the contract that it wouldn't be changed, so we've used it to our advantage and played off of it. You don't drive?"

Xander blinked, taking a moment to catch up with the abrupt topic change. "I can drive. I mean, I have a license, I just don't have a car."

Angel stared at him, disbelief apparent. "So you walked here?"

"Yeah?" Xander wasn't sure what the problem was. Sure, it wasn't a good neighborhood, but it wasn't that bad, was it? "The bus stop is only a few blocks from here."

Angel's gaze swept over him from head to toe and back again. "Walking around outside in this part of town takes some balls. What kind of styles do you know?"

"Styles?"

"Fighting styles. Defense." Angel's disbelief grew when Xander didn't reply. "You walked around without even knowing how to defend yourself?"

Xander pulled a tiny bottle from his pocket and held it up sheepishly. "I have pepper spray."

"P-pepper spray." Angel choked out, and turned to the stage. "JACK!" he roared, making Xander jump. "Get over here and teach this kid some self-defense moves before he gets himself killed coming to work!" Turning on his heel, he stalked back towards his office. "Pepper spray." he muttered before slamming the door closed behind him.

~*~

TBC...


End file.
